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PS 

1006 
A6 

A17 
1911 

MAIN 



UC-NRLF 



SB M31 flbt, 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



By 
GEORGE ADE 



. INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL CO. 
PUBLISHERS 



Copyright 1911 
THE BOBBS-MERRILL Co. 



EXPLANATION 

AT last my verses are to be published! 
I would not trust them to a commer 
cial publisher. Come to think of it, no 
commercial publisher has asked for them. 
Why? Because I am not suspected of 
being a poet, or a versifier or even a 
rhymester. 

But a newspaper writer feeding a hun 
gry column, an eight-hour librettist an 
swering the call for " extra numbers " and 
a college alumnus helping out on the an 
nual, finds, in checking up the rush-and- 
tumble work of many years, that he has 
accumulated in his private archives quite a 
mess of something or other that cannot be 
filed under the head of " prose/ 

Many of the items of merchandise filling! 
these pages were prepared for various mu-j 
sical plays. Some were tried out am 



M73G931 




EXPLANATION 

failed to satisfy the yearnings of the tired 
business man who happened to be in the 
theater that evening. Others were handed 
back to me as being too subtle or too frivo 
lous or too something. Anyway they were 
handed back. Some of them were sung in 
public, but these will seem new, even to 
those who endeavored to hear them. 

Most of them will be tagged and some 
dated not that I would take advantage 
of the statute of limitations, but merely to 
let the reader know that I formed the habit 
early in life and could not overcome it im- 
,mediately. 

G. A. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



R-E-M-0-R-S-E 

From " The Sultan of Sulu." 

The cocktail is a pleasant drink; 

It s mild and harmless I don t think ! 

When you ve had one, you call for two, 

And then you don t care what you do. 

Last night I hoisted twenty-three 

Of those arrangements into me. 

My wealth increased, I swelled with pride, 

I was pickled, primed, and ossified; 

But R-E-M-O-R-S-E ! 

The water wagon is the place for me. 

I think that somewhere in the game 

I wept and told my maiden name. 

At four I sought my whirling bed; 

At eight I woke with such a head! 

It is no time for mirth and laughter, 

The cold, gray dawn of the morning after! 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

If ever I want to sign the pledge 

It s the morning after I ve had an edge; 

When I ve been full of the oil of joy, 

And fancied I was a sporty boy ! 

The world was one kaleidoscope 

Of purple bliss, transcendent hope. 

But now I m feeling mighty blue 

Three cheers for the W. C. T. U. ! 

R-E-M-O-R-S-E! 

Those dry Martinis did the work for me ; 

Last night at twelve I felt immense, 

To-day I feel like thirty cents. 

My eyes are bleared, my coppers hot, 

I ll try to eat, but I cannot. 

It is no time for mirth and laughter, 

The cold, gray dawn of the morning after! 



WAYSIDE AMBITION 

Chicago Record 1895. 

I want to be a brakeman, 

Dog gone! 

Legs hangin over the edge of a flat car, 
Train goin bout twenty-five miles n hour, 
Kickin the dog-fennel long the track 
That s what a brakeman does. 
2 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I want to be a brakeman, 

I jing! 

Makin the boys git off the platform, 
Cussin the drayman if the skids is lost. 
Hollers, " Back er a len th," and engineer has to 

That s a brakeman for ye! 

No conductor for me, just a brakeman, 

By hen! 

Can make a couplin on the dead run, 
Has spring-bottom pants n braid on his clothes, 
Carries a lantern at night V cap over his ears 

That s a brakeman, I ll tell ye ! 

I want to be a brakeman, 

Geeminently ! 

Stand in with agents and op rators, 
Gits to Peru every night n sees a show, 
Knows the numbers of the trains, chaws tobacker 

He s a regular one, you bet! 

N I want to be head brakeman, 

Gol-lee ! 

Twistin er hard, smoke rollin round y u, 
Country people stoppin work to look, 
Girls wavin at y u all the way to Peru ; 

I ll be one, too, some day. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



THE BOGUS MILITARY 

Written for "Peggy from Paris." Sent back. Too per 
sonal. 



Behold in each a warrior bold 

With epaulets of gleaming gold; 

With nodding plume and jeweled sword 

Which only heroes can afford. 

We tremble not at war s alarms 

We disregard each call to arms; 

At bloodshed we can loudly laugh 

We re Colonels on the Governor s staff. 

We re on the Governor s staff. 

CHORUS 

Oh, the bogus military 

Is a wondrous sight to see; 

Napoleon in his glory 

Was never one two three. 

We can fight all night 

And attack on sight 

A bowl of deadly punch; 
And when the dishes rattle, 
We engage in deadly battle 

4 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

With a bang-up champagne lunch. 

Hooray ! 
The bogus military men! 



ii 



The only smoke we ve seen as yet 

Arises from a cigarette, 

And it has always been our boast 

We never quail except on toast. 

Dyspepsia is our only foe; 

The only shot that we may know, 

The snap-shot of the photograph; 

We re Colonels on the Governor s staff. 

We re on the Governor s staff. 



THE COLLEGE WIDOW 

Printed in 1890 in " The Souvenir" a volume issued by 
the Sigma Chi chapter at Purdue University. 

When I was but a Freshman and that was long 

ago 

I saw her first, but did not learn her name. 
She was at a lecture, I believe, in the first or second 

row, 
And the Junior with her seemed to be her flame. 

5 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

He held her fan all evening and gazed into her 

eyes; 
Thought I, " Now they re engaged, or soon will 

be;" 
But afterward they quarreled, as I learned with 

some surprise, 
When the faculty conferred on him G. B. 

That very spring a rumor in the college circles 

spread, 

That a Senior had her young affections snared, 
And after he had graduated then the two would 

wed; 

Twas even said her trousseau was prepared. 
It didn t come to pass at all; when I returned next 

fall, 

She had a young professor on the string; 
He used to send her flowers, and frequently would 

call, 
And kindly turn her music when she d sing. 

The prof received an offer from some college in 

the east, 

And left quite unexpectedly one day ; 
Within a week the charmer wasn t grieving in the 

least, 

When I saw her with a Freshman at the play. 
She had a gay flirtation with a special, taking art; 

6 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I went with him to call, one Sunday night; 

He kindly introduced me, then I played a villain s 

part, 
For I made a mash, and knocked him out of sight. 



O, charming college widow, I never can forget 

The night when you put on my college pin; 

I pressed your hand and told you that the act you d 
not regret, 

And you said you d stick to us through thick and 
thin. 

1 remember still the picnics and that moonlight 
promenade, 

Just the night before I paid for my degree, 

When we interchanged such sacred vows, and dec 
larations made 

That we d love each other through eternity. 

I heard from you quite often I liked your letters, 

too 

They were spicy and chuck full of college news ; 
But the interval between them soon became a month 

or two, 

And our courtship seemed its interest to lose ; 
I didn t write for full three months, and one day 

I received 
By express, collect, each love-stick billet doux, 

7 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And though I swore that I had been both jilted 

and deceived, 
I returned your letters, paid the charges, too! 



Last commencement I revisited the scenes of col 
lege life ; 

Six years had brought about a wondrous change. 

I knew a few professors, who were glad to meet 
my wife, 

But the students all seemed out of place and 
strange. 

There was little to recall to me the olden time so 
sweet, 

And so it was a pleasure, you may know, 

At the field day exercises, unexpectedly to meet 

An acquaintance of the happy long ago. 

She looked but little older, her laugh was just as 

gay; 

Beside her was a gallant Sophomore 
Who held her parasol aloft and gushed in just the 

way 

That doubtless I had gushed in days of yore. 
I merely tipped my hat, I feared to introduce my 

wife, 

For I knew that some remark might lightly fall, 
Revealing to my better half a chapter of my life, 
Which I d rather she should not suspect at all. 

8 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



THE MICROBE S SERENADE 

Written for "The Sho-Gun." Returned by comedian. 
Too Polysyllabic. 

A love-lorn microbe met by chance 
At a swagger bacteroidal dance, 
A proud bacillian belle, and she 
Was first of the animalculae. 
Of organisms saccharine, 
She was the protoplasmic queen; 
The microscopical pride and pet 
Of the biological smartest set; 
And so this infinitesimal swain 
Evolved a pleading, low refrain: 
" Oh, lovely metamorphic germ ! 
What futile scientific term 
Can well describe thy many charms? 
Come to these embryonic arms! 
Then hie away to my cellular home 
And be my little diatome." 

His epithelium burned with love; 
He swore by molecules above 
She d be his own gregarious mate 
Or else he would disintegrate. 
This amorous mite of a parasite 
Pursued the germ both day and night, 

9 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And neath her window often played 

This Darwin-Huxley serenade 

He d warble to her ev ry day, 

This rhizopodical roundelay: 

O, most primordial type of spore ! 

I never saw your like before, 

And though a microbe has no heart 

From you, sweet germ, I ll never part ; 

We ll sit beneath some fungus growth 

Till dissolution claims us both." 



THE WOMAN WITH AN ORDINARY PAST 

Written for " The Old Town." Sent back. Too bio 
graphical. 



The folks in Section A 
Who watch a problem play 

Of the kind C. F. imports for Ethel Barrymore 
Will pity quite a lot 
Poor Sadie in the plot 
Who has such a load of grief she couldn t carry 

more. 

At present she is most discreet 
She s pale and wan and sad and sweet; 
\ 10 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

>s s. 

But once she went a trifle fast- 
This woman with a past. 

This woman with a past is quite engagin 

In plays by Mister Henry Arthur Jones 
We look at her with streaming eyes; 
We very deeply sympathize 

When she relates her sins in melting tones. 

Now I ve a past of quite another color ; 

In humble walks of life my lot was cast; 
I ve nothing sinful to confess 
I ve been too well-behaved, I guess, 
The woman with an ordinary past 

ii 

There s no poetic charm 
In living on a farm, 
If you can t be lured away by some Lothario. 
The girl who sticks at home, 
With villains does not roam, 
She can never break into a real scenar 
I ve not endured the tragic woes 
Dealt out by men in evening clothes; 
What chance have I to head the cast? 

I have no spotted past 
The woman with a past is fascinating 
She enters and the others fade away, 
But one who s led the simple life 
Till she. becomes a lawful wife 
II. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Cuts mighty little figure in a play. 
I ran a boarding house till I was thirty 
Connected with a bank account at last; 
No need of taking up your time; 
I ve not committed any crime 
I m sorry, but I haven t got a past. 

in 

I ve never learned as yet 
To smoke a cigarette 

fr to wear a gown that s very much der o/le-tay. 
I don t know how to drape 
My simple western shape 
clinging gown of most expensive quality. 
I ve got a man I call my own ; 
I leave all other men alone; 
My reputation you can t blast; 

I haven t any past. 

The woman with a past gets in the papers 
With pictures of the men that she has known, 
But one without her first divorce 
Has not a claim on fame, of course; 
The scandal sheets all leave her quite alone. 
Her life is quite devoid of all excitement; 
She never sets the social world aghast ; 
Oh, pity the unhappy lot 
Of one whose life s without a blot 
The woman with an ordinary past. 
12 




VERSES AND JINGLES 

LEAVE IT TO THE BOYS IN THE NAVY 
From "The Fair Co-Ed." 



From the rousing times of old Paul Jones 

Down to the present day, 

There s one good toast we all can boast 

If we live in the U. S. A. 

When the lights are up and the music swells 

And the waxen floor it gleams, 

Each maiden fair says, " Where, oh where 

Is the hero of my dreams?" 

Up steps the neat little middy, 

Up steps the gay cadet, 

Broad of shoulder, he can hold her 

In a way she won t forget. 

The Annapolis style of dancing 

Is the one the girls all like 

With partners in demand 

Civilians cannot land 

Leave it to the boys in the navy. 



ii 



Decatur kept the flag on high 
And Farragut never quit; 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Old Fighting Bob while on the job 

Was full of nerve and grit. 

At the present day we ve heroes still, 

They re never known to stop, 

When cold champagne comes down like rain 

They never miss a drop. 

Up come the men from the squadron, 

Up to the banquet hall; 

Meet all comers they are hummers ; 

Never a one will fall. 

Off in the foreign countries, 

Where they are wined and dined, 

They answer each request 

And finish with the rest 

Leave it to the boys in the navy. 

in 

When Teddy told the navy boys 

To sail around the world, 

Till every land would understand 

Our flag was still unfurled; 

The weaklings were beset by fear, 

But not the boys in blue. 

Through stormy straits they braved the fates 

And brought each vessel through. 

Here s to the men who are sailing 

Far in the distant seas; 

They re not boasting simply coasting, 

u 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Learning their A, B, C s. 

A cheer -for the men on the flag- ship, 

For the little gun-boat, too. 

When work is to be done, 

Or when there s any fun, 

Leave it to the boys in the navy. 



IV 



We don t go looking for a scrap; 

We re friendly as can be, 

But we sleep each night with hearts more light 

When we count our ships at sea. 

There have been wars, there may be wars, 

When the crowding nations meet: 

We ll sit back tight be sure we re right, 

And then turn loose the fleet. 

Trust to the men in the navy, 

Commodore to cadet; 

Strong and steady, always ready, 

Never have failed us yet. 

They shoot very straight in the navy 

And they don t know how to run 

From any sort of fellow, whether white or whether 

yellow 
Leave it to the boys in the navy. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

THE CULLUD RACE 
Written for " The City Chap." Sent back. Too long. 

The Publican Party the Democratic, 

An the daily papers, too, 
Have asked in a manneh most emphatic 

What the cullud race will do. 
Will the AfFo-American population 

Keep growin at such a rate 
That by and by they ll rule the nation 

An control most ev ry state? 
The statesmen up in Washington 

This problem soon must face; * 
It seems to worry ev ry one 

Excep the cullud race. y 

We re from Af icuh ats the white man s veh- 
sion; 

We was careless an we got caught, 
But we didn t come heah on no excuhsion, 

We come becuz we was brought! 
We labored hard on the old plantation, 

An we neveh traveled fah, 
But we hoped and prayed for Emancipation 

An a job on a Pullman cah. 
You turned us free, you said to us, 

16 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

" Your culluh s no disgrace." 
So if we re heah you must not cuss 
The humble cullud race. 

When a coon tries to enteh some profession 

The white man hollers, " Stop ! 
You re gettin fresh ; it s my impression 

You belong in a bahbeh shop." \ 

But s pose there hadn t been rag-time musicians 

What would the white folks sing? 
And how would actors hold their positions 

If they didn t do buck an wing? 
You little guess how much you owe 

To e man with the chahcoal face 
You d neveh had a minstrel show 

Excep for the cullud race. 

V 

We commit some wrongs in the cc^its it s written 

That we ve stole an sometimes lieciN; 
But you neveh heard of a coon committin 

Such a crime as suicide. 
We may be pooh, down-trodden creatures, 

But many a millionaire 
Would like to have our smilin featui 

An a life as free from care. 
With pickaninnies just enough 

An youh wife employed some plac< 
Three meals a day it ain t so touj 

To belong to the cullud race. 

17 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



WHAT MAN DARE SAY? 



Written for "The Old Town." Sent back. Too senti 
mental. 

What man dare say that he is quite immune 

From charms and spells that ev ry girl possesses ? 
A budding love is like the warmth of June, 

That lulls and dulls his senses ere he guesses ; 
Yet who should seek to fly from such attack? 

Though stricken sore, I hold my charmer blame 
less; 
My truant heart I would not summon back, 

I leave it in the care of one who s nameless. 

He jests at scars who never felt the blow 

That comes when love first smites and sends him 

reeling ; 

The stinging arrow speeds and brings him low, 
While pain and pleasure blend in that new feel 
ing. 
I care not if the wound will never heal ; 

My weakness I proclaim in manner shameless ; 
I ll never see her more and yet I feel, 

I ll love thro all the years the one who s name 
less. 



18 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

CRIME IS MERELY A DISEASE ^~ 

Written for " The Sho-Gun" Sent back. Too satirical. 



The criminal of other days 

Was tortured in outlandish ways; 
Upon the rack they d break his back 

Or at the stake they d burn him. 
Sometimes they d strap him to a wheel 

And stretch him till he d loudly squeal; 
Nor heed his pitiful appeal, 

As on the spikes they d turn him. 
But crime is merely a disease; 

Each scientific mind agrees; 

We re kind to all offenders in our day; 
For the burglar who would kill us 

Has been stung by a bacillus, 

So we dose him up and send him on his way. 

To-day if you commit a crime, 

You have a most delicious time; 
A wagon blue will carry you 

To a large stone institution. 
The clerk assigns you to a suite, 

With chiffonier and window seat, 
An iron bedstead, trim and neat 

And a sign : " No persecution." 

19 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

For crime is merely a disease; 

Our jail officials strive to please; 

They humbly come and ask you, " Did you ring? " 
Humanitarian methods sweet 

Have made each pen a glad retreat 

And Newport s no more pleasant than Sing Sing. 

Within our jails is often met 

The most exclusive social set: 
The bank cashier, a financier, 

Who has a way that s taking; 
The man whose auto speed was high, 

The one whose alimony s shy, 
And college lads, who often try 

Their hands at window breaking. 
For crime is merely a disease, 

Or else such lovely folks as these 

Would never be connected with a crime. 
It s getting to be quite a fad 

To pay a fine for being bad ; 

It s no disgrace to serve a little time. 

If you have tried in vain to know 

The leaders of the social show, 
To the county jail you straightway go, 

On a charge of kleptomania. 
Attractive ladies bring to you 

Fresh roses every day or two; 
20 




VERSES AND JINGLES 

They hold your hand if you feel blue, 
And there s nothing said to pain you. 

For crime is merely a disease 
And so the woman s club decrees 
That jailbirds must be coddled and cares 

The bold and wicked hold-up men 
Get chummy with the upper ten, 
The convict has become an honoredy&uest. 



THE SMILING ISLE 

From " The Sultan of Sulu." Sung by Mr. Frank Moulan 
as the Sultan. 



We have no daily papers 
To tell of Newport capers, 

No proud four hundred to look down on ordinary 

folk; 

No Scotch imported liquors, 
No Stock Exchange and tickers 

To lure us on with rosy hopes and some day 

land us broke; 
We ve not a single college 
Where youth may get a knowledge 

Of chorus girls and cigarettes, of poker and the 
like; 

21 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

No janitors to sass us, 
No bell-boys to harass us, 

/*"* And we ve never known the pleasure of .a labor- 
( union strike. 

ii 

We have no prize-fight sluggers, 
No vaudevillian muggers, 

No one of us has ever shot the chutes or looped 

the loop; 

No cable-cars or trolleys, 
No life-insurance jollies, 

No bank cashiers to take our money ere they fly 

the coop; 

No bookies and no races, 
No seaside summer places; 

No Bertha Clays and Duchesses to make the fe 
males cry; 

We have no dairy lunches, 
Where they eat their food in bunches, 

And we don t insult our stomachs with the thing 
they call mince-pie. 

in 

/^Ve have no short-haired ladies 
/ Who are always raising Hades 
\<-~ With their finical and funny old reformatory 
fads; 

22 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

No ten-cent publications, 

Sold at all the railway stations, 

With a page or two of reading and a hundred 

stuffed with ads; 
We never chew in Sulu 
Any pepsin gum or tolu 

In fact, we re not such savages as some of you 

might think; 
And during intermission, 
We always crave permission, 

Before we walk on other people just to get a 
drink. 



IV 

We have no politicians, 
And under no conditions 

Do we tolerate the fraud who cures by laying on 

of hands; 

We have no elocutionists, 
No social revolutionists, 

No amateur dramatics, and no upright baby 

grands ; 

We don t play golf and tennis, 
And we never know the menace 

Of a passing fad or fancy that may turn the na 
tion s head ; 
I m proud of my dominion 

23 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

When I voice the bold opinion 

That we ll never know the tortures of a patent 

folding-bed. 

And that is why, you ll understand, 
I love my own, my native land, 

My little isle of Sulu, 

Smiling isle of Sulu ! 
I m not ready to say good-by; 
I m mighty sorry that I have to die. 



THE MODERN JAPANEE 
From (t The Old Town." 

We figured once on fans and screens 

We figure now on the Philippines. 
It s not the style to pat my head ; 

The white man shakes my hand instead. 
I once was a cute little joke of a Jap, 
But now I m a fierce little war-making chap, 
And nobody s really anxious to scrap, 
With the modern Japanee. 

Since Gilbert wrote of Nanki-Pooh, 
We ve moved along a peg or two: 

You thought that we were acrobats, 
You find us high-browed diplomats. 
24 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

We ve a government very much like your own, 
Our Mikado sits on a golden throne, 
Over here Mister Morgan rules alone, 
Like the modern Japanee. 

Jap, oh Jap, oh Japanee, 

I d rather fight than drink my tea; 
Brown as a berry, busy as a bee, 
Ichi ban ! Ichi ban ! Japanee. 
My flag is found on ev ry sea; 
The Russian and the tough Chinee, 
Can tell a lot regarding me, 
Banzai! Hoopla! Japanee! 



KEEP YOUR WHIP IN YOUR HAND 

Written for "The Old Town." Sent back. Too figura 
tive. 

Each man is like a noble steed; 

W r hen he s a colt I take him; 
I lock him up and watch his feed, 

In course of time I break him. 
I hitch him to my little cart, 

I hold the reins above him, 
Flick lightly on some tender part, 

To let him know I love him. 

25 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Then to the road, the public road, where ev ry one 

may see, 
What a big and beautiful, well-groomed animal 

now belongs to me ! 
Don t let him balk ! Don t let him walk ! 

Give him to understand, 
You have the say, he s to obey, 
And keep the whip in your hand. 

Each man is like a noble steed, 

He s proud of his position, 
And thinks because he s in the lead, 

He runs the expedition. 
Some one may envy you the brute, 

And steal him, if they re able; 
So ev ry night, if you are cute, 
You ll lock him in the stable. 
The boulevard, so smooth and hard, is where you 

work him out, 
But keep the blinders on him so that he can t look 

about. 
Don t let him jump, give him a thump; 

Prove that you have the sand; 
Show that you re game, he will be tame, 

And learn to eat from your hand. 
Crack ! crack ! Clickety clack ! 

Don t let him stumble or loaf or slack ! 
Crack ! crack ! Steady, Jack ! 

Keep the boy in the beaten track. 
26 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Whoa, boy ! Slow, boy ! 

Gently give your command ; 
He will mind, if you re kind, 

But keep your whip in your hand ! 



YELLOW ! YELLOW ! - 

THE POET OF THE NEW SCHOOL SPEAKS 
Chicago Record 1898. 

I m great and ^ 

I know it. 

People can t understand me. 
I can t understand myself. 
I don t want to. 
If I did understand myself 
I wouldn t be great. 
Listen now : 
" The moon reels and the 

Phantom passes t^vice and thrice 

The death damp hand 

Across my brow. 

what of joy? 

O what of grief f 

Darkness blank a sob in the throat. 

O phantom, phantom, phantom!" 

27 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

^ 

Pretty good, eh? 
Especially if it has 
Some little, smudgy, inky 
Pictures strung along the edges. 
I used to write about 
Men and women, back yards, 
Plain courtships, flowers and other things 
That people understood. 
Now I write lines that have 
No meaning, because they are 
Fragments of dreams that 
Vere never dreamt. 
" A soul zvrithed long 

In its purple belongings. 

O drip of blood! 

O drip of blood! 

Caught up in the wan hand of sleep 

And clotted with the dawn." 
Do you notice the " O " 
The upper-case " O " ? 
I use that a great deal. 
If anyone will tell me 
What I am writing about 
I will let him smoke my 
Opium pipe all afternoon. 
These little, twisted, 
Ugly, whirligig pictures 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Have nothing to do with 

The lines I am writing. 

If I tell about a midnight trance, 

I have a picture of a sunrise. 

If the lines mention something 

About a maiden with snaky hair 

The picture is that of a demon 

With a forked tail. 

This is genius. 

The world didn t find it out 

Until last year. 

There are but two colors 

In all this world yellow 

And another shade of yellow. ; 

I am very yellow myself, 

But people say I am great. 

I write my stuff on yellow pa er 

And use yellow ink. 

Excuse me for awhile; 

I m full of hop. 

SCOTCH STUFF 
From "The Old Town." 

Scotch stuff has come to stay, 

Now the burr drives out the brogue; 

Here in the U. S. A. 
The " hoot mon " is in vogue. 

29 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Hail to the canny Scot, 
^ He ll get what s to be got. 

Scotland! Home of bag-pipes and dances, 

Also of golf and the smoky high-ball; 
How we love your plays and romances ; 

Although we don t understand them at all! 
Scotland ! Home of thistle and heather, 
Land of the cap set off with a feather, 
Upland moors and blustery weather, 

Various clans we do not recall. 
Scotland ! Home of lasses and laddies, 

All of them sweet as the lilies in spring; 
Links and bunkers, foozles and caddies, 

Loudly for you we sing, 

To you our tribute bring; 
From the land of Burns and Barrie, 
Edinburgh Review and Harry! 
We welcome you ! 
We welcome you ! 

SINCE I FIRST MET YOU 

From " The Sultan of Sulu" 

I am a dashing, gay Lothario; 
I ve a reputation as a gallant beau; 
Courting pretty girls is a habit hard to break; 
I m a bold coquette and rather reckless rake. 
30 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I ve told my love to many a girl, 

But never a word was true, 
For my passion intense, it was a mere pretense 

Until I encountered you. 

I ve been courting many, many times ; 

In the most exclusive circles I m a pet 
Writing little notes, and inditing tender rhymes 

To the maids of ev ry station that I ve met. 
I ve sworn that each was my first love, 

But never a word was true, 
For I never knew bliss of a kind like this, 

Until I encountered you. 

Since I first met you, 

Since I first met you, 

The open sky above me seems a deeper blue; 
Golden, rippling sunshine warms me through and 
through, 

Each flower has a new perfume, 

Since I met you! 

FOOLISH WEDDING BELLS 

From " The Sultan of Sulu." 

When you are feeling out of gear 

And blue as indigo ; 
The world devoid of any cheer, 

Your spirits rather low; 

31 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Now this is what you ought to do, and that without 

delay : 
Go seek the matrimonial mart get married right 

away. 
For men they come, and men they go, 

Don t wait until to-morrow ; 
For those who wait too long may know 

A spinster s lot is sorrow. 
Shut your eyes ! grab a prize ! 
Choose a male at the bargain sale. 
To single joys your last farewells, 
And ring those foolish wedding-bells. 



IL JANITORO ^ 

N 

An attempt to treat a modern dramatic incident according 
to the approved methods of grand opera. First tirinted 
in The Chicago Record. 

[Mr. and Mrs. Tyler are seated in their apartment 
on the fifth floor of the Behemoth residential Hat 
building. Mrs. Tyler arises, places her hand on 
her heart, and moves to the center of the room. 
Mr. Tyler follows her } with his right arm ex 
tended.} 

Mrs. Tyler: 

I think I smell smoke. 

32 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Mr. Tyler: 

She thinks she smells smoke. 

Mrs. T.: 

I think I smell smoke. 

Mr. T.: 

Oh. What is this? She says she thinks she 
smells smoke. 

Mrs. T.: 

What does it mean, what does it mean? 

This smell of smoke may indicate 

That we ll be burned oh-h-h, awful fate ! 

Mr. T.: 

Behold the smell grows stronger yet, 
The house is burning, I d regret 
To perish in the curling flames; 
Oh. Horror ! horror ! ! horror ! ! ! 

Mr. and Mrs. T.: 

Oh, sad is our lot, sad is our lot, 
To perish in the flames so hot, 
To curl and writhe and fry and sizz, 
Oh, what a dreadful thing it is 
To think of such a thing! 

Mrs. T.: 

We must escape! 

Mr. T.: 

Yes, yes, we must escape ! 

33 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Mrs. T.: 

We have no time to lose. 

Mr. T.: 

Ah, bitter truth, Ah, bitter truth, 
We have no time to lose. 

Mr. and Mrs. T.: 

Sad is our lot, sad is our lot, 

To perish in the flames so hot etc. 

Mr. T.: 

Hark, what is that? 

Mrs. T.: 

Hark, what is that? 

Mr. T.: 

It is the dread alarm of fire. 

Mrs. T.: 

Ah, yes, ah, yes, it is the dread alarm. 

Mr. T.: 

The dread alarm strikes on the ear 

And chills me with an awful fear. 

The house will burn, oh, can it be 

That I must die in misery, 

That I must die in misery, 

The house will burn, oh, can it be 

That I must die in misery? 

Mrs. T.: 

Come, let us fly! 

34 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Mr. T.: 

Tis well. Tis well. We ll fly at once. 

(Enter all the other residents of the fifth floor.) 
Mr. T.: 

Kind friends, I have some news to tell. 

This house is burning, it were well 

That we should haste ourselves away 

And save our lives without delay. 
Chorus: 

What is this he tells us? 

It must be so; 

The building is on fire 

And we must go. 

Oh, hasten, oh, hasten, oh, hasten away, 

Our terror we would not conceal, 

And language fails to express the alarm 

That in our hearts we feel. 
Mr. and Mrs. T.: 

Ah, language fails to express the alarm 

That in their hearts they feel. 

(Enter the Janitor.) 
Janitor: 

Hold, I am here. 
Mr. T.: 

Ah, it is the Janitoro. 
Mrs. T.: 

Can I believe my senses 

35 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Or am I going mad? 

It is the Janitoro, 

It is indeed the Janitoro. 
Janitor: 

Such news I have to tell. 
Mr. T.: 

Ah, I might have known 

He has such news to tell. 
Mrs. T.: 

Speak and break the awful suspense. 
Mrs. T.: 

Yes, speak. 
Janitor: 

I come to inform you 

That you must quickly fly 

The fearful blaze is spreading, 

To tarry is to die. 

The floors underneath you 

Are completely burned away, 

They cannot save the building, 

So now escape I pray. 
Mrs. T.: 

Oh, awful message 

How it chills my heart. 
Janitor: 

The flames are roaring loudly, 

Oh, what a fearful sound ! 

36 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

You can hear the people shrieking 

As they jump and strike the ground. 

Oh, horror overtakes me, 

And I merely pause to say 

That the building s doomed for certain 

Oh, haste, oh, haste away. 
Mrs. T.: 

Oh, awful message. 

How it chills my heart. 

Yet we will sing a few more arias 

Before we start. 
Mr. T.: 

Yes, a few more arias and then away. 
Chorus: 

Oh, hasten, oh, hasten, oh, hasten away, etc., 

etc. 
Mrs. T.: 

Now, e er I retreat, 

Lest death o ertakes me 

I ll speak of the fear 

That convulses and shakes me. 

I sicken to think what may befall, 

Oh, horror ! horror ! ! horror ! ! ! 
Mr. T.: 

The woman speaks the truth, 

And there can be no doubt 

That we will perish soon 

Unless we all clear out. 

37 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Chorus: 

Oh, hasten, oh, hasten, oh, hasten away, etc., 

etc. 

(But why go further? The supposition is that 
they continued the dilatory tactics of grand opera 
and perished in the flames.) 



THE CHAPERON 
From " The Fair Co-Ed." 

The very first duty of a chaperon 

Is to leave the young folks quite alone; 

Permitting them to sit up late 

In twos and twos and tete-a-tete 

Whatever that may mean. 

When a giddy old girl is on the shelf 

And can t have any more fun herself, 

It gives her a certain kind of thrill 

To know that others are in it still. 

A good professional chaperon 
No breach of etiquette will condone, 
And yet if she is fly she ll know 
To hang around would be de trop 
Whatever that may mean. 
Although I m old and quite passe 
I was a lulu in my day; 

38 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Each girl has a right to a private squeeze 
But she must not sit on a gentleman s knees. 

I love to chaperon a bunch 

Of beautiful buds, and I ve a hunch 

The reason they all send for me 

It s because I m gay as I used to be, 

Way back in the summer of eighty-three 

Sing hey for the chaperon ! 



WEAK LITTLE WOMAN L 

From " The Old Town" 

I speak for poor little woman 

Please do not turn away; 
Oh, mighty man, do what you can, 

Our misery to allay. 
Just think how it makes us suffer 

To watch a procession go past, 
And not have a right to march half the night 

And bring home a package at last. 
You give us lovely pearls in strings, 

You buy us rings and other things; 
I ve even heard of wealthy chaps, 

Who go as far as sable wraps. 
But when for ballots we insist, 

We d rather not be hugged and kissed; 

39 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Tho once a little house-hold pet, 
I m now a fighting suffragette. 

I plead for weak little woman 

She s but a captive bird; 
Tho called a wife, locked up for life, 

She never dares say a word; 
I plead for down-trodden woman, 

The slave of a tyrant called man; 
He loves her so much, he ll stand for a touch, 

But keeps her at home if he can. 
You ve petted us, you ve fondled us, 

When you see us you make a fuss, 
You ve crowned us as the queens of earth 

You ve blown yourselves for all you re worth; 
But darn the diadem on my brow! 

I want a vote and want it now ; 
And you can t smother my regrets 

With motor cars and violets. 

Shoulder to shoulder, sisters! 

Wait for emancipation day! 
Fight for the right, until the light 

Drives ev ry cloud away! 
Shoulder to shoulder, sisters! 

Up with the flying petticoat! 
Stand by your gun, man s on the run, 

You ve got a right to vote ! 
40 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



YOUR HONEYMOON WILL LAST 



From " The Sho-Gun." 

She: 

When I settle with my hubby 

In our little home, 
He must not be wild and clubby, 

He must never roam. 

He: 

For a change you will be pleading 

If he spends his time in reading, 
Some excitement you ll be needing, 

If he stays at home. 

She: 

But if I ve an invitation 

To some gay affair, 
He must show an inclination 

To escort me there. 

He: 

If he comes home feeling dreary, 

Says your friends all make him weary, 
Won t go out with little deary, 

What a happy pair! 

41 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Both: 

To each there s some objection, 

No man is quite perfection, 
For some are slow and others go 

A pace that s very fast. 
So take them as you find them. 

If they have faults, don t mind them; 
Just let him have his own sweet way, 

And your honeymoon will last. 



II 



She: 

I have always had a notion 

That the man for me 

Should exhibit a devotion 

Boundless as the sea. 

He: 

Students of the subject tell us 
Loving men are always jealous; 

Modern, up-to-date Othellos, 
Foolish as can be. 

She: 

If to others he s attentive 

I will never care; 
Constant love shall -be preventive, 
Watching ev ry snare. 
42 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

He: 

But when widow amatory 

Leads him to conservatory, 
Then you ll tell a diff rent story ! 

What a happy pair! 
Both: 

To each there s some objection, 

No man is quite perfection, 
For some delight to flirt each night 

With widows that are fast. 
So take them as you find them. 

If they have faults, don t mind them; 
Just let him have his own sweet way, 

And your honeymoon will last. 



in 



She: 

I have read a ladies journal, 

Reeking with advice ; 
How to make his love eternal, 

Home a paradise. 
He: 

Sugar as a steady diet, 

Won t digest and those who try it 
Often finish with a riot! 

Wouldn t that be nice? 

43 




VERSES AND JINGLES 

She: 

When domestic thunders rumble, 

I shall stroke his hair; 
Sweet, submissive, meek and humble, 

Fond beyond compare. 

He: 

I m informed that husbands vary, 

Soft caresses capillary, 
Sometimes make them more contrary ; 

What a happy pair! 

Both: 

To each there s some objection, 

No man is quite perfection, 
For some insist they shan t be kissed, 

When love s young dream is past. 
So take them as you find them. 

If they have faults, don t mind them ; 
Just let him have his own sweet way, 

And your honeymoon will last. 



IV 



She: 

One point I m not overlooking, 

Every girl should know, 
How to supervise the cooking, 

It will please him so. 

44 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

He: 

Of your efforts he won t speak well, 

Mother s cooking you can t equal, 
What a most unhappy sequel, 

When your cake is dough. 

She: 

I ll be patient for a season, 

Try and not despair, 
If he blames me without reason, 

Then let him beware. 

He: 

When some recipe you borrow, 

He will fill your heart with sorrow, 
Saying, " Let s dine out to-morrow ! " 
What a happy pair! 

Both: 

To each there s some objection, 

No man is quite perfection, 
He s hard to please from soup to cheese, 

A real iconoclast. 
So take them as you find them. 

If they have faults, don t mind them; 
Just let him have his own sweet way, 

And your honeymoon will last. 



45 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



v 

She: 

Lest my afternoons seem lonely, 

Friends shall call on me; 
They shall meet my own and only, 

He shall pour the tea. 

He: 

Five o clocks he ll soon be scorning; 

If he finds out in the morning, 
What is coming, he ll give warning, 

" None of that for me." 

She: 

I shall win by tactics clever, 

To him, I ll declare, 
" At your poker games, I ll never 

Fail to be right there." 

He: 

When the men are playing poker, 

If a woman joins the smoker, 
They are mad enough to choke her! 
What a happy pair! 

Both: 

To each there s some objection, 

No man is quite perfection, 
If she is bright she ll serve all night 
A very wet repast. 

4 6 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

So take them as you find them. 

If they have faults, don t mind them; 
Just let him have his own sweet way, 

And your honeymoon will last. 



" THE LA GRIPPE " 
Written for the Purdue University " Souvenir" 1890. 

I am not hypercritical on points of punctuation; 
A misplaced comma now and then is surely not 

a sin; 

I overlook the sundry breaks of common conver 
sation 
And do my wincing inwardly when some " I 

seen " creeps in. 
To wretched double negatives some friends are 

quite addicted ; 
They knife the good King s English and then 

revel in its gore; 

These crude idiosyncrasies are never contradicted, 
For I would not seem pedantic or appear a 
learned bore. 

Yet the whiskered proverbs tell us, and I know they 

tell us truly, 

That forbearance as a virtue cannot always be 
construed, 

47 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And the camel s dorsal vertebrae, if weighted down 

unduly, 
Will sustain a compound fracture with a fatal 

promptitude ; 

And when a college maiden, intellectual and charm 
ing, 
Sends me a little perfumed note, regretful in its 

tone, 
" To learn that all your symptoms are especially 

alarming, 
And the doctor fears that the la grippe has 

claimed you for its own " ; 
Then I howl and curse a little, and I stamp upon 

the letter, 
And I boil with indignation to think that any 

one, 

Who long has studied French, should not, appar 
ently, know better 
Than to write it " the la grippe," when but one 

" the " would have done. 
A break like this affects me in a manner almost 

fatal, 

Tis even worse that the " la grippe " 
Hevings ! I have gone and done it myself! 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

THE COLLEGE SERENADE 

From " The Fair Co-Ed." 

When the chapel bell struck the midnight hour 

And the campus lay asleep, 

We d count the strokes from the ivy tower, 

Then out from our dens we d creep; 

And the guiding star in the lonely night 

For all of that rollicking crew, 

As it gleamed afar twas the signal light 

Where she waited for me and you. 

Oh, sweet co-ed ! Oh, college maid ! 

The one we went to serenade. 

Oh, star-lit night! 

Oh, glimpse of white, 

At the window overhead ! 

Back, through the years 

Of smiles and tears, 

I ll dream of that rare co-ed. 



49 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

MY EMMALEEN 
From "Peggy from Paris." 

Let de boat swing down de ribber; 

Ah! swing, ah! swing away! 
Can t afford to leave mah only, 

So heah I m gwine to stay. 
All de coons along de water-front am tryin 

Foh to steal mah Emmaleen, 
To dislocate mah happy home 

And grab dis yellow queen. 

REFRAIN 

Lovey, my dovey dove 

Ham-bone can t compaih. 
Peppehmint and wintehgreen 

Not so sweet as Emmaleen. 

I can say to all mah troubles, 

" Ah ! fly, ah ! fly away ! " 
When I m sitting by mah only, 

That s whah I d like to stay. 
Got a voice as sweet as New Ohleans molasses 

An I ll gamble you ain t seen 
Such incandescent lectric eyes 

As those of Emmaleen. 

50 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



THE GAMES WE USED TO 
From " The Sho-Gun." 



Back in the golden days of youth, 

On a farm in I-o-way; 
Happiest days of all were they, 

If you don t care what you say. 
Nothing to do but milk the cows, 

And feed the gentle stock, 
And work like a Turk from early morn 

Till nearly eight o clock. 
The only joy of the country boy, 

To fill his soul with glee, 
On a frosty night, when the moon shone bright, 

Away to the husking bee. 

Go to the East, go to the West, 

Go to the one that you love best; 
If she s not here to take your part, 

Choose another with all your heart. 
Dozvn on this carpet you must kneel 

As sure s the grass grows in the Held, 
Salute your bride and kiss her siveet, 

And then you rise upon your feet. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Oft I recall the girl I loved, 

In the days of long ago ; 
Muscular maid of six feet two, ^ 

With a cheek of rosy glow. J 
I would escort my Genevieve 

To many a husking bee, 
And she at the call of " ladies choice " 

Would always grab for me. 
With a sudden swoop and a merry whoop, 

She d mop me round the floor, 
And though I d resist, I was always kissed, 

Sing hey, for the days of yore ! 

/ think I hear the rain-crow say, 

I think I hear the rain-crow say, 
I think I hear the rain-crow say, 

" It ain t a-goin to rain no more." 
Swing your true love, swing her back again, 

Swing your true love, swing her back again, 
Swing your true love, swing her back again, 

It ain t a-goin to rain no more. 

Best of the pleasures that we knew, 

In the days that now have fled, 
Snuggled so warm and holding hands, 

In the big old-time bob-sled. 
Calico damsels just as proud 

As any queen in silk, 

52 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And we didn t take them out to dine, 

They lived on mush and milk. 
But the noisy fun when the work was done, 

And the cider flowing free, 
With a " balance all," at the fiddler s call, 

We d swing in the jamboree. 

\\ , 

I long and sigh for the days gone by, 

I pine for the rustic charm 
Of the dear old games, the queer old gashes 

We played down on the farm. 



" NOOVO RISHE " 6^ 
Written for " The Old Town." Sent back. Too/libelous. 

Mrs, B.: 

From out a canon in the West I came with colors 

flying, 

To meet the people known as " best," or strain my 
self while trying; 
I know I m handicapped by fate, and shy on 

social training, 

Though I got off a trifle late, I m going some 
and gaining. 

53 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Jo-ann of Arc once set a mark that caused a lot 

of talk, 
But give me room to start a boom, I ll beat her 

in a walk. 
A woman who is nifty, who is up to date and 

shifty, 

Can start the game at fifty, with millions at her 
call. 

CHORUS 

This matron is possessed of nerve, and very wide 
awake. 

Mrs. B.: 

I ll study ev ry social curve and overcome each 

break. 

I am wild to be like Marie Antoinette 
With a grand saloon for just the toppy set; 
I would like to say, " Mon ami-Voulez vous com- 

pr&nez jammy " 

Which is all the French that I have learned as yet. 
It has also been my very ardent wish, 
To stand in line along with Mrs. Fish. 
I am tired of hotel cooking, for a Newport house 

I m looking, 
And I want to get away from all the noovo rishe. 

Mrs. B.: 

We landed in the great big town, without a maid 
or valey, 

54 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Each evening we strolled up and down that gor 
geous peacock alley. 
The elevator man was nice, the waiters were 

congenial : 
But still we didn t cut much ice, unless we tipped 

a menial. 
We d see the bunch come in to lunch, they called 

it day-jho-nay, 
I made a vow that I somehow would know them 

all some day. 
A woman who is clever, and works each social 

lever, 

Must bide her time and never be worried by a 
snub. 

CHORUS 

This matron started in to climb, it was a fearful 
task. 

Mrs. B.: 

I met the proper sort in time, if any one should 
ask. 

I am trying hard to shake my western burr 

And a woman s hired to make me talk like her. 
When I m seated at a table I am proud to say I m 

able, 
To pick out each kind of fork without a slur. 

I have learned that if I wish to be " katish " 

And to occupy a really good posish, 

55 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I must be persona gratin to the blue blood of 

Manhattan, 
So I long to get away from all the noovo rishe. 



LOVE, YOU MUST BE BLIND 
From " The Sho-Gun." 

Tell me if you can, the rule by which a man 
Selects his worse or better half. 

Truly it would seem to be a lott ry scheme, 
The prizes often make one laugh. 

The woman slim and thin and tall, 

Will love a human butter ball; 
While one who s round and plump and fat, 

Adores some one as tall as that. 
The author of a learned book, 

Is sometimes wedded to his cook; 
The girl who s frivolous and gay, 

Picks out a meek Y. M. C. A. 
The statesman with ambition high, 

Will choose a social butterfly; 
The Charley kind of mamma s pet 

Pursues the elderly soubrette. 
You ve seen the beauty linked by fate 

To freckled Fred, whose eyes don t mate. 

56 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

The broker worships as a queen, 

The blonde who plays a Smith machine. 



The howling swell will court a peach, 

All paint and powder, pads and bleach; 
And dainty Dottie, small and neat, 

Loves awkward John, all hands and feet. 
The man who sixty years has seen, 

Gets mashed on something just sixteen; 
The stylish maid, divinely fair, 

A fiddling freak with lots of hair. 
A well-bred heiress will elope 

With one who uses scented soap ; 
While gray-haired widows oft amaze 

By taking tender boys to raise. 
The pious deacon gets roped in 

By Gertie gay, who wants his tin; 
The kind that wholesale men adore, 

Don t know that two and two make four. 

Cupid leaves all rules behind 
Funny married folks we find, 

Love, ah, Love ! you must be blind. 



57 



- 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



BENEVOLENT ASSIMILATION 



From " The Sultan of Sulu." Sung by a chorus of 
American soldiers. 

We haven t the appearance, goodness knows, 

Of plain commercial men; 
From a hasty glance, you might suppose 

We are fractious now and then. 
But though we come in warlike guise 

And battle-front arrayed, 
It s all a business enterprise 

We re seeking foreign trade. 

We want to assimilate, if we can, 

Our brother who is brown; 
We love our dusky fellow-man 

And we hate to hunt him down. 
So, when we perforate his frame, 

We want him to be good. 
We shoot at him to make him tame, 

If he but understood. 

REFRAIN 

We re as mild as any turtle-dove 

When we see the foe a-coming, 
Our thoughts are set on human love 

When we hear the bullets humming. 

58 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

We teach the native pppulation 
What the golden rule is like, 

And we scatter public education 
On ev ry blasted hike! 



SHE S JUST A LITTLE DIFFERENT 
From " The Sho-Gun" 

In a wood lived Brother Rabbit, 
Of a most flirtatious habit, 

He would wag his ears at ev ry Bunny that he d 

meet. 

No one in the world of fashion, 
Thought him capable of passion 

Till one day he up and took a little wife so 

sweet. 

On the wedding day his sister 
Met the happy bride and kissed her, 

But like ev ry sister she was doubtful of the 

match. 

For she whispered to her brother, 
" I d have chosen any other, 

She is not entitled to the season s only catch." 
Brother Rabbit simply said; 

" She s the one I want to wed ; 

59 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And to all who ask me why, 

I can only make reply : 
She s just a little diff rent from the others that I 

know, 
Her smile is more beguiling and her voice is soft 

and low. 

No other may discover why I dote upon her so, 
She s just a little diff rent from the others that 
I know. " 

Brother Rabbit doubtless knew some 
Friends who came with faces grewsome, 

Saying to him, " Well, old man, it seems a great 

mistake ; 

For this most designing Bunny 
Simply took you for your money, 

We are sorry you have made this matrimonial 

break." 

I suppose that each relation 
Showed a certain hesitation, 

When it came to throwing rice and wishing 

longest life; 

And when I, like Brother Rabbit, 
Seek your hand and quickly grab it, 

All my friends will wonder why I chose you for 

my wife. 

To these skeptics I will say 
" She has won my heart away ; 

60 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And if you would ask me why, 
I can only make reply : 

She s just a little difFrent, etc. " 



OH, WHAT A BUMP! 

From " The Sultan of Sulu." Sung by Mr. Jones, Col. 
Budd and Ki-Ram, the Sultan. 

JONES 

At a musicale, a five-o clock, 

Or social jamboree, 
Tis there the swagger people flock 
For a bite and a sip of tea; 

And this is what you hear: 
" It s been a charming afternoon ; 

Delighted, don t you know; 
Sorry I have to leave so soon, 
But really I must go." 
But after she s away 
In her coupe, 
What does this self-same woman say? 

KI-RAM AND BUDD 

Well, what does she say? 

61 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

JONES 

" That was the tackiest time I ve had 

In twenty years or more. 
The crowd was jay and the tea was bad 
And the whole affair a bore ! " 

TRIO 

Oh, what a bump ! Alackaday ! 

Twotild darken her whqle career, 
Could the hostess know what people say 

When she s not there, to hear. 

BUDD 

The bashful youth who s rather slow 

When he has made a call, 
Receives a message, soft and low, 
At parting in the hall. 

And this is what she says: 
" Now come as often as you can. 

I love these little larks. 
It s seldom that I meet a man 

Who makes such bright remarks." 
But when he tears away 
From this fairy fay, 
What does the artful maiden say? 

62 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

KI-RAM AND JONES 

Well, what does she say? 

BUDD 

" Of all the dummies I ever met 

He s the limit, and no mistake. 
As a touch-me-not and mamma s pet, 
That Johnnie takes the cake." 

TRIO 

Oh, what a bump ! Alackaday ! 

Twould darken his whole career, 
Could Harold know what Mabel says 

When he s not there to hear. 

KI-RAM 

Did you ever feel like saying ! 

When some precocious brat 
Recites a piece called " Mary s Lamb " 
Or " Little Pussy Cat " ? 

And this is what you say : 
" What marvelous talent she does possess 

For one of her tender age. 
I think she d make a great success 
If you d put her on the stage." 

61 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

But later in the day, 
When you get away, 
What do you then proceed to say? 



BUDD AND JONES 

Well, what do you say? 

KI-RAM 

" If that awful kid belonged to me, 

I ll tell you what I d do 
I d keep it under lock and key 
And spank it black and blue." 

TRIO 

Oh, what a bump ! Alackaday ! 

Twould darken the child s career, 
Could parents know what callers say 

When they re not there to hear. 

JONES 

Perhaps the most terrific bump 

Is found in politics. 
The campaign speaker on the stump 

Is up to all the tricks, 
And this is what he says: 

6 4 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

" Oh, fellow-citizens, I see 
Before me here to-day 
The sovereign voters, pure and free, 
Whom I shall e er obey." 
But when he s won the race. 
Gets a nice, fat place, 
What does the people s servant say? 

KI-RAM AND BUDD 

Well, what does he say? 
JONES 

3 

" Well, maybe I didn t con those yaps 

With that patriotic bluff. 
Now that I ve landed one of the snap: 
I m going to get the stuff." 

TRIO 

Oh, what a bump ! Alackaday ! 

Twould darken their whole career, 
Could voters know what bosses say 

When they re not there to hear. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKtX 

From " The Sho-Gun." Sung by Mr. Spangle, the Amer 
ican promoter. 

Wherever British drumbeats sound, 

Unending round the world; 
Wherever in some land new-found, 

Our starry flag s unfurled; 
Where er the sun is known to shine, 

Or winds consent to blow, 
These nimble countrymen of mine, 

On business errands go. 
In southern isles, where nature smiles, 

They sell the " ham what am." 
Upon some cliff of Teneriffe 

You ll read, " Don t be a clam." 
In England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, 

We show our goods and make our sales, 
No other drummer can outrank 

The. bold and enterprising Yank. 

REFRAIN 

Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Irrepressible 

Yank, 

A regular traveling board of trade, 
And a two-legged sort of a bank, 

66 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

If you deal with him and don t get left, 
Your lucky stars you ll thank. 

This Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Yankee, Irre 
pressible Yank. 

We under-bid the foreign trade, 

Wherever we may roam; 
Our largest profit s always made 

On what we sell at home. 
In foreign lands we ve left behind 

The German and the Scotch, 
Each Zulu warrior now can wind 

His Waterbury watch. 
In Tokio, and Borneo, 

And where Euphrates winds, 
The natives munch each day for lunch, 

Our fifty-seven kinds. 
In Egypt now the Arab chief, 

Goes armed with cans of potted beef; 
And rides, instead of camels slow, 

An auto car from Kokomo. 

The savage in the jungle deep 

We corner in his lair; 
And sell at prices- very cheap, 

Our new health underwear. 
And where the borealis gleams 

Amid the ice and snow, 

6 7 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

We work some very foxy schemes 

Upon the Eskimo. 
In Mandalay and Uruguay, 

And o er the Andes range, 
Each distant spot, through us has got 

A telephone exchange. 
In Singapore and Zanzibar, 

We plant the merry trolley car, 
And Honolulu now has seen 

Our nickel-in-the-slot machine. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH 

Written for the National Convention of the Sigma Chi 
fraternity at Jamestozvn, Virginia, 1907. 

You ll recall, if you re strong on historical- stuff, 
The name of that highly deluded old fluff 
Who chartered a schooner and sailed o er the sea 
Long after Columbus, but long before me 
Through primeval forests he went on a quest 
Of the fountain of youth lying far to the west; 
For it seems that a sailor, who knew how to string, 
Had told this old man of a magical spring, 
Which would change any withered emeritus prof 
To a lusty and vigorous freshman or soph. 

68 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

So he came and he searched oh, you must know 

his name, 
The text-books have boomed him and given him 

fame; 

Was it Balboa ? No. Or De Soto ? Great Scott ! 
All the Ridpath I studied I quickly forgot. *- 
No matter he firmly believed in the myth 
It was not Hendrik Hudson or Captain John 

Smith 
Hold on! Ponce de Leon! I knew it would 

come 
He thought that this fountain of youth would help 

some; 

So he landed and built on the Jacksonville line 
A high-priced hotel that is still doing fine. 
Then he said to his followers, " Boys, on your way ; 
I must run down that fountain without much delay, 
For I m just about in I m a thing of the past, 
And unless I m patched up, I m afraid I can t last." 
Now the histories tell that his search was in vain 
And instead of returning in triumph to Spain, 
A cocky young blade of about twenty-three; 
He got lost in the mountains of east Tennessee; 
Got stung by mosquitoes which gave him the 

shakes 

Got shot at by Injuns and hissed at by snakes; 
Got tired and disgusted; got most everything 
Except the address of that wonderful spring. 

69 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

So he took the back trail through the jungle and 

brake, 

Convinced that the mariner s yarn was a fake; 
And he died in the orthodox manner, we re told, 
Which is often the finish of those who grow old. 



PART SECOND 

The sequel, I m certain, you never have heard. 
It is mystical, fanciful, never occurred; 
It is supposititious a very good word 
It is purely fictitious but still it s a bird. 
They buried the shell of this doughty old don, 
But his resolute spirit kept marching right on; 
The ghostly, intangible knight of Castile 
Continued the search with persistence and zeal. 
Through years and through decades and centuries 

too, 
He roamed through the hemisphere still known as 

new, 

And sought, with Diogenes patience, the spring 
Where Methusaleh might, as a giddy young thing 
Have continued to bloom for a thousand years more 
Until old Father Time would get tired keeping 

score. 

He was kept rather busy, for ev ry few days 
He would read in a folder the unstinted praise 
70 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Of this or that spring with a live-dollar rate, 
Which would cure almost any disease while you 

wait. 

Each one, from Mt. Clemens to far Manitou 
Guaranteed to make old people look just like new. 
So he tested them all, and at every resort, 
He found people drinking the stuff by the quart; 
But at Hot Springs, Arkansas, and even French 

Lick 

They were old and shot-up and disabled and sick; 
Not one of them happy and hearty and young; 
All lean and dyspeptic with fur on the tongue. 
Can you blame him for doubting the absolute truth 
Of the legend regarding the fountain of youth? 
Wherever he journeyed, this rule seemed to hold : 
That the young must be young and the old must 

be old. 

In nineteen-ought-seven he came to a spot 
Way down in Virginia the weather was hot 
The time was midsummer; the flags were unfurled, 
And tourists were flocking from half of the world. 
There were strange foreign people of most every 

race, 

And Ponce thought he d struck a new watering- 
place ; 
Though he judged from the hurrah and laughter 

and fun 
That twenty " resorts " had been rolled into one. 

7 1 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

He sought the headquarters for all of the noise 
And there he discovered a great crowd of boys, 
All seated at tables, and whooping it up 
While quenching their thirst from a big loving-cup, 
Which never ran empty, though score upon score 
Drank deep and drank often and clamored for 

more. 

And strange to relate, as the cup went around, 
The old boys began to get up and expound ; 
They laughed at the jokes and they joined in each 

song 

And if trouble was started they helped it along. 
For would you believe it, though some in that room 
Seemed old and decrepit and marked for the tomb, 
The magical cup took them back to their teens 
By some supernatural method or means; 
Until doctor, professor and lawyer and sage, 
Arrived at a most irresponsible age. 
The traveler came to our most worthy " C " 
And politely requested the prize recipe : 
" Pray tell me what fluid your flagon may hold, 
That brings crimson youth to the weary and old." 
The consul gave answer : " To tell you the truth, 
We re simply imbibing the Spirit of Youth; 
Our own preparation, we keep it on tap 
And furnish it freely to ev ry good chap; 
He drinks, and his boyhood returns on the fly, 
It s a pure food concoction, and called Sigma 

Chi. " 

72 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I LIKE YOU, LIL 

From "Peggy from Paris." 



I t ought I was hep to the whole string o fairies 

Not one o the bunch could put me to the bad; 
I d mingled a lot with your Mauds and your Car 
ries, 

If one tried to kid she was sorry she had. 
But ev ry fly mug gets it sooner or later, 

I know that this calico game is no cinch 
Since I met at the ten, twent an t irty t eater 

The cause of me trouble, Miss Lily Ann Lynch. 

When I caught a flash me, the real Foxy Quiller ! 

Thinks I to meself, " Lily Ann, you re all right; " 
I says to the gang : " Watch me stroll up and kill 

er, 
I ll cop out that princess, she s mine from to 

night." 

But sa-a-y when I tried to get new wit Miss Lily, 
She come back so hard, me kazing! to the mat ; 
An now I m as tame as a clothin store Willie, 
She s got me trained proper, take my word for 
that. 

Lil, I like you, Lil, I do, 

I don t mind tellin this to you. 

73 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

It s no case o stringin , Lil 
For you ve got me wingin , still 
I like you, Lil, for fair. 



LITTLE MOOZOO-MAY 

From " The S ho -Gun." 

The rose of June can feel no sorrow, 

It never droops or says " Ah me ! " 
It never sees a sad to-morrow, 

But greets each day with rapture free. 
Why should a girl so young and charming, 

Be less confiding than the rose? 
For me this life holds naught alarming, 

Each morning will new joys disclose. 
I m like the rose that blooms in June. 

I give no thought to afternoon. 
Like a rosebud red I can hang my head, 

I can sway and pose like the drooping rose. 
But I m not the flow r of a passing hour, 

I m a happy little singing girl, 
I m a jolly, pleasure-bringing girl. 

REFRAIN 

Dainty little Moozoo-May, 
Clever little Moozoo-May, 

74 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

When the shamosen I m playing, 
Come the -men from far and near; 

Most bewitching Moozoo-May, 
Quite entrancing Moozoo-May, 

Fascinating, captivating, 
Little Moozoo-May. 



The rose of June is not retiring, 

It wears a manner most serene, 
And smiles on other buds aspiring 

To be as lovely as their queen. 
Why should a girl of matchless beauty, 

Her many charming traits disown? 
If she excels it is her duty 

To lift her head and bloom alone. 
I m like the rose in this respect. 

A fragrant thing without defect. 
Like a rosebud red I can hang my head, 

I can sway and pose like the drooping rose. 
But I m not the flow r of a passing hour, 

I m a happy little singing girl, 
I m a jolly, pleasure-bringing girl. 



75 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I AM " YOURS TRULY " 

From " The Sho-Gun." 

How often in this careless life 

A word but lightly spoken, 
By magic of a love sincere, 

Becomes a blessed token. 
The formal message that I send to you 

Would thrill your very soul if you but knew, 
That ev ry word I write is more than true 

" I am, I am yours truly." 

REFRAIN 

I am, I am yours truly, 

And will be ever more, 
The meaning of those simple words 

I never knew before. 
Time cannot change my deep devotion, 

Steadfast my heart shall be, 
I am, I am yours truly, 

My soul belongs to thee! 

The words we speak in idle jest 
Our secret thoughts are screening, 

Exchanging vows of deep concern 
In terms that have no meaning. 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And yet, at times, the clasp of friendly hand 
Appeals far more than duty s loud command. 

And so I pray that she may understand, 
I am, I am hers truly. 



FLUTTER, LITTLE BIRD 

From " The Sho-Gun." 



Observe the loving mother bird, 

Up in the spreading tree, 
Correct with stern but loving word, 

Her tender chickadee. 
The feathered youngster tries to flap 

His embryonic wings, 
While mother cheers the little chap, 

As to the bough he clings. 
He makes a most heroic jump, 

Alas, it is in vain, 
She says : " Don t mind a little bump, 

Just try it once again." 

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying, 
By and by you will be flying; 

You can do it, take my word, 
Keep on fluttering, little bird. 

77 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



ii 

At dinner parties you have met 

Young Mister Parvenu, 
Who views the knives and forks and spoons, 

And wonders what to do. 
He eats the blue points with a spoon, 

For fish he ll use a knife, 
He can t pick out the salad fork, 

To save his mortal life. 
At last the demi tasse is served, 

A la Martin s, New York, 
The only tool that he has left, 

One lonely oyster fork. 

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying, 

By and by you will be flying; 
Watch the hostess, mum s the word, 

Keep on fluttering, little bird. 

in 

You ve seen the man from up the road, 

With lots of ready cash; 
Who takes a suite at ten per day 

And hopes to cut a dash. 
His dinner coat is very short, 

His hat is very high, 

78 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

The fourteen karat stud he wears, 

Will blind each passer-by. 
But ignorance with him is bliss, 

And he s a happy man, 
Although his tie is ready-made, 

And shoes are russet tan. 

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying, 
By and by you will be flying; 

All beginners look absurd, 
Keep on fluttering, little bird. 



IV 

The woman who is up-to-date, \ 

Must join a reading club, 
Where matrons meet to analyze, 

The popular flub-dub. 
It s hard on Mrs. Malaprop, 

Who used to be a cook, 
And until hubby struck it rich, 

Had never read a book. 
She thinks that Kipling wrote " Be^ucaire/ 

And can t get in her head, 
Why Shakespeare doesn t write more books,- 

She doesn t know he s dead. / 

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying, 
By and by you will be flying; 

79 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Clubs are helpful, so I ve heard, 
Keep on fluttering, little bird. 



Though politics may loudly buzz 

Each candidate has vowed 
To seldom think, and if he does, 

To never think out loud. 
He simply sits in solemn state 

And lets his friends explain 
That he s the only candidate 

Who s truly safe and sane. 

fe has a very deep regard 
For ev ry son of toil, 
nd yet he would not be too hard 
On friends of Standard Oil- 
Flutter, little bird and keep on trying, 

By and by you will be flying; 

Just look wise don t say a word, 

Keep on fluttering, little bird. 



VI 



Of all the birds that fly the air, 
/ The jay-bird is the best; 
/ He comes from almost anywhere 
I Out in the boundless west. 

^ so 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

He wants to learn to speculate, 

The ticker he would beat; 
He strikes a most terrific gait, 

And dazzles all the street. 
He causes all the stocks to jump 

Until there comes a day, 
When some wise bird decides to dump 

And that s the end of Jay. 

Flutter, little bird and keep on trying, 
By and by you will be flying; 

Though you re long on Steel Preferred, 
Keep on fluttering, little bird. 



HENNY 

From "Peggy from Paris." 

One day I went to a Saengerfest 

On the banks of the dear old Rhine. 
I wore a badge upon my breast 

Of the Sweinburg Turn-Verein 
The band was playing a lieber tune 

And the music was soft and sweet, 
I heard the sound of that bassoon 

And my heart began to beat. 
8l 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

My Henny played a Solo 

That day on the beautiful Rhine, 
And while he played hi-lee, hi-lo, 

He won this heart of mine. 



REFRAIN 

Henny, oh, Henny, come to me, 
Across the wet and salty sea. 

I m longing for the happy day 

When I can hear my Henny play : 

Dii, du, ligst mir im herzen, 
Du, du, ligst mir im sinn. 

I lost my heart when I heard that tune 
That Henny played on his big bassoon. 

My Henny he was a chubby boy 

And his eyes they were baby blue. 
For months he was my pride and joy 

And I thought his love was true. 
One night I strolled in the public park 

For I hoped to find him there. 
I heard from out the woods so dark 

That old familiar air., 
My Henny played a solo 

That night on the beautiful Rhine 
And seated close beside him was 

A lady friend of mine. 

82 



VERSES AND JINGLES 



REFRAIN 

Henny, oh, Henny, what a blow, 
My lady friend she stole my beau. 

Weeping and sad I turned away 
And as I went I heard him play: 

Du, du, ligst mir ini herzen, 
Du, du, ligst mir im sinn. 

My heart it broke when I heard the tune 
That Henny played on his big bassoon. 



EVERY-DAY HAPPENINGS IN BLANKEST^ 
VERSE 

From The Chicago Record 1898. 
CHICAGO CASTANETS 

Through all the moving thoroughfares 
And in the contending marts of trade; 
Within the babbling magazines and 
Even as I rode the surcharged vehicles 
Which rolled at dizzy onwardness 
Without the impulse of the harnessed steed; 
During the waking hours, bewhiles 
I battled with the reckless wind 

83 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

And closed my eyes against the tossing clouds 

Of vitrified disturbance, soot, dust, 

Tattered papyrus and all the medleyed rubbish 

Of the city s ways; 

All this time, as I again declare, 

And likewise in the night, when I, 

In company with highty-ti revelers, 

Did run with bunches of anticipation 

Toward the gleaming letters far above 

The portals of Thespis temple; 

And later yet, when all we creatures of the night 

Did seek our warm retreats 

To feast on rabbits, explosive salads 

And the clammy crabmeat of commerce; 

All during this long while, as I do now 

Most solemnly and fearfully asseverate, 
/There came to my ear, with never pause, 
/ A soft and hollow rattle. 
I At times, methought, twas like the 
V Spilling of many dead men s bones 

In the adjoining vault. Again, 

It seemed more like the tapping 

Of distant castanets a dream 

Of dark-eyed Spanish women, soiled and superb, 

Who moved in jerky measures while 

The yellow dust rose to obscure 

The fierce colors. But, truth to tell, 

Twas neither. Clickety-click, clickety-click, 

8 4 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

I heard it yet again, and I asked: 

" Is this some dread distemper of the brain, 

Some fungus growth in my imaginings? 

Do I alone of mortal men distinguish 

This smothered clatter, hidden, elusive?" 

When I did full relate my fears 

To the good ^Esculapius, he said: 

" Fear not ; twas actual sound you heard, 

And you are not, as you might well suppose, 

Entirely separated from your trolley." 

Continuing, then, with kindly air, he told: 

" The tiny rattling sounds which do attend 

You and all others in this wintry clime, 

Are the concussions of the quinine pellet 

Tossing within its pasteboard cage ; 

For know you well that all men, 

Likewise the women and the tender young, 

The aged and infirm no more than those 

Who claim youth s lusty strength, 

The plain and eke the fair, 

The rich and humble, frugal and 

Improvident, all, all, carry concealed 

The potent ammunition of the season; 

And as they move upon their daily 

Occupations, you hear from underneath 

Their woolen garments, toward the Jaeger depths, 

Muffled and yet distinct, and always rhythmical, 

Clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety-click, 

85 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

The tattoo of the quinine pellet. 

Join all the others take my solemn tip, 

Prepare to meet thine enemy, the grip." 

THE STEWED SAMARITAN 

Within a house of public entertainment 
There sat an ebon slave close at the foot 
Of a heavy chair topping a broad dais. 
The man sat motionless, gazing pensive 
At nothingness, yet all the while 
He thought of numbers. Thus to sit 
And think was, so his master averred, 
One of the best things he did. 
While he was so benumbed and lost 
In fruitless meditation, there came, 
Stepping heavily and breathing most loud, 
A traveler in gay attire, who chanced to be 
At this, the period of our simple tale, 
The custodian, guard, manager, executor, 
Captain, director and immediate chief 
Of a comely and well-developed jag. 
With a proprietary and assertive air 
He climbed into the seat of honor, 
And, with thick utterance, and, be it said, 
A slack politeness, bade the Senegambian 
Remove from his sandals all trace of stain 
Or disfiguration. Promptly the youth obeyed, 
And when his task was ended 

86 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

The generous traveler laid within 

The dusky palm a silver quartern, 

And, with yammering utterance, asked 

The simple child of Afric far transported 

To lead him to the barber s velvet seat. 

Lying at ease within the odored room, 

He slept in peace the while he yet received 

Kindly caresses and vapory ablution. 

Roused and sent forth, he viewed, 

As he stepped high to pass the threshold, 

The ebon youth once more contemplative 

And talking to himself. " What ho ! " 

The liquorish pilgrim cried, " What ho ! 

Attend upon me ! Help me to the chair ! " 

With mercenary speed the youth obeyed ; 

With honeyed words he answered all the taunts 

And alcoholic cracks. Again he cleansed 

The scandals, which, ere he began a second time 

To cleanse, shone bright as any cuirass. 

With simulated humbleness he bowed 

As he received once more a silver piece; 

Then, with a gentleness which well 

Bespoke a tender and a helpful disposition, 

He led the traveler back into the shop 

And spread him on a chair. 

" A shave ! " huskily cried the stranger, 

Then lapsed he into deep forgetfulness, 

Until they shook him rudely and collected. 

87 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Now once again behold the jag-ged man, 
Pallid with powder, reeking with hammamelis, 
Seeking, circuitously and with serpentine 
Meanderings to find the door leading to the place 
Where he could have his sandals cleaned. 
Thrice welcome ! " cried the ebon youth, merrily, 
Boosting him, meanwhile, to the throne. 
What visions filled th Ethiopian s brain 
Of pork chops, chicken, carmine neckwear 
And the blood raw ! With dreamy eyes 
The pilgrim gazed upon the busy slave and tried, 
With uncertain effort, to recall where 
Or when he had seen that face before. 
Thus dimly balmed in thought, he 
Closed his eyes and soon thereafter drooped 
And rolled most calmly to the floor below. 
Now see him, under the brawny arm 
Of the Celt, attending as house policeman, 
Carried to where the wind blows free; 
And the ebon youth, sad and regretful, 
Philosophizing among the dead embers of hope, 
Recalling that in this vale of disappointment 
A good thing comes and seems inclined to stay 
Till Fate shows up and chases it away. 

A BUSINESS DEAL 

An ancient joker, grizzled and half-bald, 

With the outward seeming and the attire 

88 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Of a devout deacon, and yet possessing 

The frolicsome nature of an unbroken colt, 

Pushed soft his entrance to a long day coach. 

The same, to make the purpose of the tale, 

Was well-nigh rilled with passengers 

Of all degrees. " Where shall I sit? " 

Thus asked the ancient joker, for, in truth, 

His sweeping glance discovered no place 

Vacant. Until at last! Ah, there! 

Beside a buxom woman, well removed 

From the endangered age of coquetry 

And whose condens-ed features made 

A chaperon a superfluity, there sat 

A dog. The woman and the canine thus 

Doubly held down a cushioned seat 

Meant for two human beings. 

: To stand or not to stand ? 

That is the question ; 

Whether tis nobler in a man to suffer 

The crampy leg aches and the jolty motion 

Or to take chances with the heavy female 

And oust the dog? " 

Not overlong he waited, for he knew 

That sweet diplomacy might win a cause 

Which harsh attack would lose. 

Gently he lifted then the limber brute 

And sat he where the dog had sat before, 

And to the matron s cold astonishment 

8 9 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

He turned a smile, oily and melting 

In its sublime benevolence. 

Upon his knee he held the dog, stroking, 

With unpracticed hand, the wiry coat, 

And then he spoke. " Madam," quoth he. 

" Full many a league, in this and foreign lands, 

Have I, your servant, wandered, 

But never in my wide perambulations 

Have I beheld a dog of any breed 

More pleasing to my eye than this one." 

Twas a judicious lie, for well he knew 

The cur had neither pedigree nor value. 

" Listen ! " he said. " In my far-distant home 

I have a niece, a dimpled little thing, 

Who craves a true companion. 

If I could take this dog to her 

Methinks I now can hear her cry with joy 

And note her glad amazement. 

This dog I must possess, and now, 

In furtherance of what I most desire, 

I offer you one hundred dollars for him." 

Delight and fright worked for supremacy 

Within the ample figure of that dame. 

Moved by the subtle flattery she was, 

And yet alarmed to know that any one 

Should covet thus her chief possession. 

" Alas, I dare not part with him," she said. 

" My husband loves him. Should I now return 

90 



VERSES AND JINGLES 

Without the household pet 

Twould wrench his heart." 

" What say you then to fifty dollars more ? " 

Urged the persistent one. " My niece, 

My little, bright-eyed darling relative, 

Must have this dog." 

" Tempt me not ! " cried the woman, 

And speaking thus she gazed 

More infinitely fond than e er before 

Upon the fice. " I ll give two hundred." 

" Ah, now, methinks, you play upon my avarice," 

The woman said. " At the next station 

I must leave you. Better than life itself 

I love this little dog ; but then alack-a-day ! 

Two hundred takes him ! " 

" Good ! He is mine ! One word, however, 

Relating to the terms of this transaction. 

Two hundred dollars is the price I give, 

But not in paltry gold or silver, mind you." 

" What, then ? " she asked, and as she spoke 

The whistle blew the signal for the station. 

" With your permission, madam, I will pay 

In Maltese cats worth eighty dollars each." 

Too full of wrath to answer him 

She fled, pressing the dear one to her bosom. 

The ancient joker watched her mad retreat 

And said, " I lose the dog but keep the seat." 



14 DAY USE 

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